The Struggles of a Spy
by bumblebee88888
Summary: Severus' POV of Harry's first 4 years at Hogwarts. Only most significant events depicted. 1 chapter per year. Canon, with slight exception in PoA. How did Severus react to Quirrellmort? How did he feel about Harry speaking to snakes? How would things be different if had Severus known Wormtail was a spy? How did Severus feel about returning to Voldemort as a death eater? Plz R & R
1. Chapter 1- Philosopher's Stone

Author's note: As many of you know, I am currently working on two projects: My brother cross-over stories ('Leave Me' and 'A life worth living') and the outtakes from my story 'Trust Me'. Recently I have been able to resume writing (after a 4 month break), with the intention of posting another chapter of 'Leave Me'. This particular chapter was meant to cover years 1 to 4 of Harry's schooling from Severus' point of view, because I desperately wanted to _briefly _explore the role Severus played in the significant events Harry experienced during the first four years of his time at Hogwarts. What was originally meant to be a normal-sized chapter has become a story almost in and of itself. It was not long before I realised just how much Severus would have contributed (behind the scenes) during those four years, and I wanted to do it justice. So, this is the first chapter of what has now become 'The Struggles of a Spy' which is basically Severus' POV of the various events that occurred during The Philosopher's Stone.

Please note that you do NOT need to read 'Leave Me' to understand this chapter as it is purely canon based. The only exception to this will be chapters 3 and 4, but I will explain this when I manage to post up these chapters. For those of you who do read 'Leave Me', I will only update that story once all four chapters of this one have been completed- I will then combine them into one document and post it as a (very long) chapter under 'Leave Me'. So this little story means you don't have to wait as long!

Enough chat for now; I really hope you enjoy my interpretation of what Severus went through during Harry's first year at Hogwarts.

Happy reading!

'The Struggles of a Spy'

Chapter 1- The Philosopher's Stone

Severus' POV

Traditionally 'The Sorting' had been a mildly interesting event at best. The only real interest I had in it was the opportunity to take a good look at the newest members of Slytherin House, especially if I knew them to be the offspring of Death Eaters. My colleagues generally took more interest in the occasion than I did, or at least they appeared to by leaning further forward in their chairs with wide, inquisitive eyes. The conversations that took place at the staff table were usually uneventful as the professors discussed their curriculum or a particular student who had caused them grief the previous year. I would usually engage in such banter to ensure I did not offend my colleagues by appearing indifferent to their concerns. Such was the routine I had grown accustomed to over the years as a member of staff during the Sorting Ceremony.

But this Sorting was different.

As I entered the Great Hall and sat down in my usual position at the staff table, I heard exuberant whispers coming from my fellow professors. I had hoped to hear the usual talk of our subjects and gossip about the talented and far less so students that graced our classes, but I was severely disappointed.

"Of course he'll be in Gryffindor!" Filius asserted in his high pitched voice to Pomona who was seated on his right.

"I wonder who he will look like- will we recognise him do you think?"

"Surely that infamous scar of his will assist us there."

I sighed heavily; this was going to be a long night.

By this stage, the remainder of the school except for the first years had entered the hall, and it seemed that _everyone _was leeching off the excitement of those around them. The volume of speech was ringing in my ears, and by the time the Great Hall's large doors opened and the first years were led in by Minerva, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Although we have never stood up for the first year procession, half of my colleagues could not contain themselves, and the professor on either side of me were squatting above their seats in the hope of spotting Harry Potter first. I was sorry to observe that a few of my colleagues were far from subtle about it. I was composed enough to remain in my seat but found myself _perhaps _just as eager to find Mr Potter in an attempt to ease my anticipation. I scanned the sea of heads and within only four seconds I had found 'The Chosen One'. I could not see his face clearly, but his unruly black hair and glasses were uncannily similar to his father's silhouette.

So this was the boy I had agreed to protect… _this _was Lily's son.

When he gazed up at our table all I could see was his good-for-nothing father… my nemesis… the man who made so many of my young years a living hell. His face and his hair were a mockery of his father's and I knew at that moment that this Potter would be no different: arrogant, cruel, and sporting a tremendous sized head. His being sorted into Gryffindor was no surprise, given both of his parents were perceived by our world as being the 'truest' of Gryffindors.

During the welcome feast I was meant to be conversing with Quirrell to discover more about his trip to Albania (all by design, of course). The night before, Albus had asked me to "keep an eye on Quirrell", but was unwilling to explain why I was given the task and why he gave Quirrell the DADA position. Upon first broaching the topic with the now Defence against the Dark Arts professor, he was rather illusive as to why he was now sporting a large purple turban. Somehow I felt the appearance of his turban and his recent position as DADA professor was connected, but it frustrated me that Albus had knowingly placed a long standing professor of Hogwarts in a cursed position that would result in his leaving Hogwarts by the end of the year.

_Why would Albus do that_?

Although these concerns were frequently on my mind, I regret to admit that none of this bothered me when Potter was in my presence. I watched him like a hawk, stared at him, perhaps excessively, but I was waiting to see more of James: my tormentor, my nemesis- anything to give me a reason to hate this kid as much I did his father. Every feeling I possessed for Lily was overshadowed by the sheer hatred I felt for the late James Potter who, by some twist of fate, had managed to continue mocking me even in his death.

Unfortunately, as most students are on their first day, Potter was well-behaved and had already developed allies and perhaps even friends in his house. He received all the attention I thought 'the Boy who Lived' would, which made me sick.

Dissatisfied with what I had learnt of the boy that first night, I was pathologically eager to have him in my classroom. On that 'blessed' day, I planned to run my lesson as I had in previous years and pretend that Potter's striking resemblance to his father or his being 'the Chosen One' meant nothing to me.

Indifference was my goal.

I entered my classroom in my usual dramatic manner which I reserved especially for first years, and stalked to the front of the class. I then turned around- and froze. There amongst the brown and blue orbs sat a pair of emerald green, almond shaped eyes- Lily's eyes- watching me. My intentions had all but evaporated. I continued to speak my usual script which I thankfully knew by heart after 10 years of teaching (heaven forbid my students noticed my being phased by anything), but the rest of my mind was struggling.

He _had_ to have her eyes.

Of course he did.

Within a couple of short minutes I was sure I felt angry, and yet the emotion was lost on me in that moment. Retrospectively I now understood where that anger was unjustly aimed: at Lily and James for ever having a child, and at Albus for asking me to protect that child.

It took me a long time to realise that the person I was most angry with was myself for feeling anything at all. I _still _loved her after all these years, and even though her eyes were now within James' face (for all intents and purposes) they were still the eyes I fell in love with. Even in death, the Potters continued to haunt me, and it scared me that they still had that influence over me. From that day forward, I struggled with the stark contrast between my love for those eyes and my hatred for everything else about that boy. I was certain the next 7 years would be _Hell _for me.

I shared my sentiments with Albus by means of insulting Potter's arrogance, his mediocre knowledge of our world, as well as unleashing the greatest insult of all: being his father 'all over again'. Albus managed to conveniently dismiss my tirade, and instead reminded me to keep an eye on Quirrell for him, yet still refusing to explain what he suspected.

And I knew he suspected _something… _

**_~~~~PS~~~~_**

I was in excruciating pain.

Yes, I should have known better than to follow Quirrell into the third floor corridor; I knew what creature prowled just beyond the doors.

But I desperately wanted to catch him in the act so he could no longer pretend that he was an innocent victim in all of this. And I was incredibly close, but the moment I entered the room, hot on Quirrell's metaphorical tail, said man was running towards me to escape the three headed dog snapping at his back. Unfortunately, this left me victim to the attack that was meant for _him. _I attempted to run, but the dog managed to grab my left calf between its teeth. I flung a stunning spell in between its eyes which thankfully caused it to release my leg, and I managed to hobble out and slam the door behind me before the creature could recover.

_This _is what happens when one agrees to do "anything" in order to redeem oneself; your leg almost becomes a snack for a gigantic mutt!

Bloody Albus- I felt like limping to his office, dripping blood all over the floor to show him how much I sacrifice just to be his eyes and ears.

Of course, it was now perfectly clear what Quirrell was doing, though the true intention behind his behaviour was still a mystery to me.

Quirrell intentionally released the troll as a diversion for his true motive: to enter the third floor undetected by staff and students so he could retrieve the Philosopher's Stone. Of course, I was not blinded by his plan, so chose to follow him… much to my detriment.

I bandaged my leg haphazardly with magic (I decided against the far more dramatic entrance I had considered), so I could reach the Headmaster's office as promptly as possible. I did not know where Quirrell had retreated to after realising I had followed his movements, but I imagined he would be in his office, dreading when I would confront him about his motives. I did not believe he would return to try again so soon, but I left a detector spell outside the corridor just in case.

I was forced to wait outside Albus' office until he returned from a meeting with the staff; satisfied that all of his students were safe and in their common rooms. When I informed the Headmaster of what I had discovered about Quirrell's treachery, it caused Albus momentary quiet, but he did not appear overly surprised- a minute reaction compared to the one I thought I would receive.

Had I endured this blasted injury for nothing?

Albus' insisted that the knowledge I provided him was in fact highly valuable, but I did not believe him; he knew more than he was letting on, and quite frankly, what else was new? What I did know was my calf was beginning to sting uncomfortably, and I feared I would not be able to walk on it unless I received prompt medical attention.

I shifted uncomfortably on my leg, and after explaining how I obtained my injury, Albus saw fit to mend my wound as best as magic would allow (there is only so much that can be done for a mangled calf muscle, even in the wizarding world) whilst he informed me of 'a change in plan' now that we had proof that Quirrell was taking significant risks (and placing staff and students in potential danger) in order to enter the third floor. The evidence we had collected proved that Quirrell was attempting to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone (why else would someone willingly enter the third floor and face that monstrous dog?), but the question that remained is _why _a respectable, generally trustworthy member of staff would suddenly demonstrate such a strong desire to betray Albus by stealing such a powerful substance?

Naturally, Quirrell's role in the troll fiasco was not to be known to anyone except myself and Albus, which infuriated me to no end. Not only had Quirrell had played victim that night, running into the Great Hall too pathetic to protect himself, but Potter had somehow managed to be nearly pummelled by the creature had it not been for Miss Granger's quick thinking. _Clearly _Quirrell was putting on an act so he would not be suspected. Regardless, my task had increased in complexity; not only was I to confront Quirrell the following day to probe him further, but I was to keep a closer track of Potter's whereabouts.

I left Albus' office with a heavy limp. Thankfully, the headmaster was able to relieve the pain I felt when I walked, but that did not stop it from appearing disgusting and uncomfortable to move. I knew the students would notice my limp almost immediately, but Potter seemed to take particular interest in it. I overheard him and Weasley discussing it under their breath as I passed them in the corridor and again in my very classroom the following day. All of the students should have been ignorant of where I sustained my injury, but Potter and his friends seemed to _know _somehow. I had an unnerving feeling that they knew about 'Fluffy' (a ridiculous name for such a creature) most likely from speaking with Hagrid, but if that were so, what else did they know about the three-headed dog and its role in protecting the Philosopher's Stone? I resolved to keep an even closer eye on Potter when I could to ensure he did not endeavour to look deeper into where I had sustained my injury.

But as luck would have it, Hagrid was not the only one who had provided Potter with information he should not have heard. Two days following the incident, I had elicited Filch's assistance in examining and dabbing at the bite mark with disinfectant to ensure the flesh would not become infected. As we were conversing, I too made the mistake of discussing the difficulties of "keeping an eye on all three heads at once" to Filch when Potter happened to be standing at my office door hoping to get his bloody book back. Surprised by his appearing there and frustrated with myself for speaking so openly about a creature that should not even be discussed except behind closed and _locked _doors, I reacted by demanding Potter leave my office.

I found it difficult to calm down for some time afterwards.

_What did the boy know prior to seeing my mangled leg?_

_What had he now surmised given the injury I had sustained?_

_Did he believe I was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone? Did he even know what the Stone was or what Fluffy is protecting?_

I returned to Albus' office that evening to inform him of what Potter had walked in on. Again, Albus was not disturbed by this news, and seemed to think that Potter's suspicions would be confirmed by what he had seen, rather than add any new information to his repertoire.

After expressing my frustration at not being informed of this two days ago, Professor Dumbledore informed me that Potter was not only aware of Fluffy but was intrigued by what she was protecting, which meant that I was to keep Potter away from the third floor at all costs…

This resulted in my following two people: Quirrell and Potter. For the first time in years, I felt like the spy I was, and thankfully being silent and inconspicuous comes naturally to me.

Potter was reasonably easy to follow, and although I tried to do it discreetly, I was concerned he would begin to question whether I was trying to protect him. However, Albus reassured me that Potter's first interpretation would be that I was trying to catch him disobeying the rules (which I _was _inclined to do and had done multiple times already), rather than question whether I had more admirable motives. I smirked at this, satisfied that even Albus believed Potter found me intimidating and cruel.

_Time for payback, Potter, _I thought to myself.

I eventually managed to confront Quirrell; he had spent the good part of a week evading me.

He played ignorant and refused to concede that he was in the third floor corridor at all. I was frustrated with him but I knew Legilimency would be useless against him despite his nervous quivers and stutter. Instead, I threatened him and reminded him that he did not want me as his enemy. His demeanour was pitiful and weak and his stutter particularly bad when I cornered him. I sensed he was nervous and uncertain how to defend himself. At times I wondered whether he was being forced to do someone else's bidding, but never would I have suspected the truth…

~~~~**_PS~~~~_**

_If the Dark Lord does not kill him, I will._

_That stupid boy and his even more foolish friends…_

I knew they were not there, but nevertheless, my body could not help but check the Gryffindor common room once again using a charm that could detect a specific student in any room within the school. I had hoped (foolishly) that I would feel the desired pull towards the common room, but felt nothing.

I was forced to conclude that Potter and his two companions were missing.

Well- 'missing' would imply I did not know where they were, but I did, and for his disobedience, I hoped (again foolishly) that Albus would discipline him for it.

That boy's nose knew no bounds when it came to other's secrets. If Potter were a cat, the well-known saying would apply to him; curiosity will kill that boy and I'll be the one responsible. Just you wait and see.

I walked as fast as I could towards the third floor, forcing myself not to panic or yell into the silence at the ever absent Albus who had, of course, left the school for the night. What a situation he has left me in! I growled in frustration as I flew down the corridor with the intention of going down the trapdoor myself and drag that ungrateful child from its depths.

Of course, it had no escaped my notice that Quirrell was similarly 'missing'; he was not pacing in his quarters like he ought to be. He was undoubtedly involved in all of this; I was certain he was not _looking _for the boy like I was; _he_ was after the stone.

The pit in my stomach grew. My body was telling me, before my mind could, that Quirrell had planned to retrieve it tonight- _he _likely sent the message to Albus (_a fool for obeying I; he should have known better)_- to get him 'out of the way'. Potter must have heard of this plan somehow and decided to stop Quirrell himself.

Words cannot describe how I felt towards Potter for taking it upon his own initiative to stop Quirrell from taking the stone. For a first year to even consider entering such a room housing such a dog was ridiculous. It would have been easy to be mad at the boy and focus solely on this as I ran towards the third level of school. However, I needed to consider what I was about to do- what I would find at the end: The Mirror of Erised. I could not risk going down there in case the mirror provided me with the Stone (which it may well do given I did not want to use it), and I was, by some miracle, defeated by Quirrell. It was far too risky, but what other choice did I have? Within seconds I had managed to convince myself that I needed to try and pursue them- to save Potter, if nothing else- Albus would want me to do that.

As I continued to glide towards my destination, I pondered further about Quirrell: was he already in the final chamber? Who did he hope to give the stone to and what would they do with it?

I halted in my tracks.

_I cannot go down there._

The conclusion I had drawn seemed impossible- had to be impossible. However, Quirrell's trip to Albania, the mysterious turban on his head, Potter's scar hurting whenever he was in Quirrell's presence, the knowledge Albus had shared with me 10 years before…

_It's impossible, _I tried to convince myself, as I stood stationary in the middle of the fourth floor. _It's impossible._

And perhaps it was, but there was no one else I could think of who would want that Stone; who would dare attempt to break into Gringotts or snatch it from right under Albus' nose except…

_The Dark Lord._

I searched my memories trying to determine if Quirrell was loyal to the Dark Lord prior to his downfall. Did I ever hear mention of him? I never remembered hearing his name prior to working at Hogwarts. Had my former master possessed Quirrell like a parasite? Did Quirrell realise what was happening?

Did Albus know?

I had several questions to which I could provide no sufficient answer. But what I did know was that I could not 'rescue' the boy and his friends. If Quirrell and the Dark Lord were somehow connected, and if the latter revealed himself to me, I could not save Potter if I wanted to remain a spy. I could not take that risk and yet, I did not know what else I could do; I had no idea whether Potter and his friends were still living or how far they had progressed through the tasks. What if Albus was wrong and Quirrell could get the stone? What if Potter arrived at the final chamber, was given the Stone to protect because he does _not _want to use it, and then Quirrell kills the boy in the order to get it?

_Damn it, Albus; you should be here! _I shouted at him in my mind. But he was not and the responsibility of the boy, his friends, and the Stone lay with me.

I considered many options: to wake another staff member and ask them to pursue Potter whilst I contacted Albus via… owl?

Too slow.

Patronus?

Too risky- I would be discovered. But what choice did I have? I _needed _to tell Albus what happening, slow or not. As much as I detested it, I ran in the opposite direction of where I had been heading- straight to the Owlery. I felt helpless in this moment; the one individual who posed the most risk to Potter was the one individual I was unable to actively protect him from.

As I ran, I conjured a piece of parchment and a loaded quill. I hastily wrote a letter to Albus, my writing barely legible as each stroke moved with my stride.

_Albus, _I wrote, anger and indignation rising within me as I felt the sense of betrayal flow through my veins; if he had told me his suspicions with regard to Quirrell being connected with the Dark Lord, for I was sure he knew, I could have been better prepared for this sequence of events.

_Return to the school at once; both of them are down there._

_SS_

The moment I set foot within the Owlery, I called one of the Tawny owls to me, strapped the parchment onto its leg and encouraged its flight within a matter of seconds.

I allowed myself half a minute to make sure the owl continued to fly in the direction of the ministry and that Quirrell hadn't managed to intercept my communication to Albus, before turning on my heel and flying down the staircase. Without being conscious of my decision, I found myself heading towards Minerva's office. As the Deputy Headmistress and the Head of Gryffindor House she needed to be notified of what I suspected to be taking place. If truth be known, she should have been alerted to my suspicions far sooner than this, but my mind was too scattered to think of something so logical.

What would I say to her? I had no _proof _of their location, only that they could not be found. Would Minerva insist she search for them herself? Or would she heed my request to head straight for the third floor? Would she believe Potter capable, or perhaps daring enough to face our obstacles? I had to hope.

Without another thought, I knocked on Minerva's door and stared at the handle in anticipation in an attempt to ignore the duelling Potters and Quirrrells that were reeling through my mind. As always, the Deputy Headmistress was prompt to answer her door and had clearly been on her way to bed.

"Professor Snape!" she asserted evidently surprised to see me. "What is the matter?"

"Some of your students are missing," I told her matter-of-factly, hoping this would gain her utmost attention so she would obey the advice that was about to follow.

"Who?" she demanded, as she quickly tied her nightgown.

_Take a wild guess, _I thought bitterly.

"Potter, Weasley and Granger," I replied indifferently. "I have been searching for them for the last-"

I stopped speaking when I saw Minerva's gaze leave my face to examine something in the distance.

"I fear," she began, as I turned around, "that you must have overlooked them."

I was seething. There, running towards us were Weasley and Granger looking both panicked and exhausted.

Their untimely appearance and how ridiculous this made me appear was soon lost when I fully comprehended the absence of the boy I was supposed to be protecting.

Simultaneously, Minerva and I spoke:

"Where have you been?"

"Where is Potter?"

And as luck would have it, Granger answered the Head of her house, whereas Weasley answered my query.

"He's still down there facing…" and then paled as if he had just remembered something. Without clarifying his expression, he nudged Hermione and said without much subtlety.

"If Snape is _here, _then who?"

_Quirrell._

"It doesn't matter, Ron," Hermione insisted, turning red with embarrassment, realising, unlike her friend that they were speaking about me within my earshot. "Professor Dumbledore will take care of it," she said confidently.

"Albus is here?" We asked.

"Yes, we ran into him-"

"Literally," Weasley added.

"As we were heading towards the Owlery to send him a message," she continued as if she had not been interrupted. "He was running towards the third floor when we last saw him."

I was relieved that Albus had returned to the school and (hopefully) had control of the situation. I knew it would be some time before I would discover the outcome of Potter's 'adventure'.

I left Professor McGonagall to deal with her students whilst I walked towards my quarters as I also needed to get ready for the night. Of course, this did not stop me from dwelling on the events that may have taken place. How far had Potter gotten before Albus caught up to him? I did not think to ask his friends where they had left him before managing their own escape; surely they had not left Potter willingly.

Half an hour later, Albus' Patronus bathed my quarters with its presence, with a message from Albus requesting I meet him in his office immediately. Apparently he would need to return to the Hospital Wing shortly. Taking this to mean that Potter was, at the very least, still alive, I swiftly left my office, locking it behind me, and journeyed towards the Headmaster's office, wondering what I was about to hear.

**_ ~~~~ PS ~~~~_**

"You found him where?!" I asked loudly, half in indignation, the other in complete shock.

Albus smiled grimly at me. "In the final chamber, Severus, with the Philosopher's Stone in his hand, no less," he chuckled.

"Unbelievable," I muttered under my breath.

"Indeed," Albus laughed, but then the humour left his eyes and I knew he wanted to move to the more serious aspect of this situation. "He is currently resting in the hospital wing; he has been through quite an ordeal."

"Do you know what happened?" I asked, intensely curious for multiple reasons.

"Based on what Miss Granger and Mr Weasley have told me, and given the scene I witnessed when I arrived, I believe I do," Albus replied modestly.

"Well?"

The Headmaster recounted Weasley and Granger's story of how they managed (miraculously) to get through each of the tasks the staff of Hogwarts had put in place to protect the Stone. It was not until Minerva's chess game that they had difficulty, and Weasley was knocked unconscious. Potter and Granger continued forward until they reached my own test of logic. It surprised me that Granger managed to solve the riddle, allowing herself to exit the fire safely and for Potter to continue forward into the final chamber. Albus then assumed Potter would have come face-to-face with Quirrell, who was presumably struggling to obtain the Stone from the mirror. It was not clear to Albus exactly what happened next, but he ultimately found Potter unconscious but alive on the tiles with the Stone lying in his hand and the Dark Lord no where to be seen.

"He could have died, Albus!"

"I am well aware of that, Severus," he replied warningly.

"You never should have left- or if you needed to, at least tell me who Potter was potentially facing! If I had not guessed correctly, I could have followed him down there and be expected to save the boy from the Dark Lord himself!"

"I apologise for the situation my decision placed you in, Severus."  
"Your _decision_?"

"My decision," he repeated clearly refusing to say more.

"Your decision to _leave?_" I growled through my teeth. "You knew what would happen?" I demanded, my voice rising quickly in volume.

Albus stared calmly back at me.

"I knew the letter was from Professor Quirrell and I knew what he planned to do, yes."

"And you left the school anyway?" I screamed, standing up from my chair so I could tower over the Headmaster.

Dumbledore's blue eyes followed me as I stood, not looking at all intimidated or phased by my reaction.  
"I wanted to give Harry the opportunity to-"

"What if Quirrell had succeeded, Albus!?"

"He could not have," Albus insisted, "I was certain that neither Quirrell nor Tom could get the stone and I am happy to say that my enchantment worked. They would have failed miserably, if it were not for-"

"Potter following him down there," I finished for him, fury in every word that left my mouth.

Albus nodded slightly in my direction to silently acknowledge my concern and rage.

"It was closer than I had ever anticipated, but he is alive and safe," Albus insisted as if that made any difference.

"Did you anticipate he would go down there!? Have you lost your senses, Dumbledore?" I demanded.

"Harry needed to know Tom's present state- know what he is like- what his dark magic has made him-"

I spluttered, my brain momentarily unable to come up with a cohesive response to the absurdity I was hearing.

"When he wakes, I plan to find out what Harry has learnt from his encounter with Voldemort and reinforce the most important aspects of their interaction. From what I could tell, Quirrell attempted to touch Harry's skin to, I regret, deadly consequences."

I was still in a poor position to speak properly, but I blurted: "Quirrell is dead?"

"Yes, I am afraid so, and I have no doubt Voldemort managed to leave his vehicle and escape with little inconvenience to himself."

All I could do was glare at Albus; there were no words to describe how I felt.

"Harry will need to face him one day-" the headmaster tried to justify.

"Not at the age of 11 and not when I am so unaware of what could have happened! From this point forward, I _insist_ you tell me if you believe the Dark Lord is within this castle or anywhere near Potter!" I screamed, shaking with rage.

"I will," Albus said seriously. "I had considered telling you before I left, but I was concerned you would try to stop Harry and his friends and I wanted them to be successful-"

"Which is ludicrous," I interrupted under my breath.

"I do not take what I did lightly, Severus," the Headmaster said seriously. "But you and I both know of the prophecy that connects their fates."

I felt myself pale at the mention of that word; we had not spoken of it in a decade and I had no intention of starting now.

"Tom will not rest until he hears the whole of it," Albus continued as if he had not noticed my discomfort, "and once he has, he will do everything in his power to fulfil his original goal and kill Harry."

I tried to interject to ask whether Albus planned to tell Potter about the prophecy, but he spoke loudly over me.

"I do not know when this will happen, but I intend for Harry to be prepared for this eventuation, and the interaction, however brief, he had with Tom tonight was an ideal start. I hope Harry learnt much from the experience. I never intended for Harry to get hurt and I had not intended to distress you, but I have planned for some time that Harry and Tom be reunited as soon as possible, and for that, I harbour no remorse. Harry will learn of his true power tonight- it is the reason the Philosopher's Stone is still in our possession and the reason why he lives. Harry must understand the incredible power he possesses: love-"

I hissed sharply.

"_Even_ at the age of 11, Severus, he must know this. If he has any chance of ever defeating Tom, he must understand what his mother did for him- why he lives."

_And why she didn't._

I had had enough.

"I am going to bed."

I knew Albus wanted to continue our discussion, but he mercifully let me go.

"Good night, Severus. I will let you know if I plan to do something similar in future."  
"You better," I muttered under my breath, before leaving his office and slamming the door behind me.

**_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~PS~~~~~~~~~~~~~_**

Author's note: Thank you for reading the first chapter. Please take some time to share your thoughts with me; you know how much I love hearing from you all!

I hope to post up 'Chapter 2: The Chamber of Secrets' within a week. For those of you who are keenly waiting for another outtake from Trust Me, I promise to post one up before I return to uni in the new year.

Thank you all for your incredible patience. I look forward to reading your thoughts!


	2. Chapter 2- Chamber of Secrets

Author's note: Welcome back to 'The Struggles of a Spy' where we now take a glimpse into Severus' POV of Harry's second year at Hogwarts. To my surprise, this chapter is twice as long as the Philosopher's Stone update- i was not expecting that! Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter :) It was a fun and interesting chapter to write (as I think all of these chapters will be :D). Happy reading! I look forward to hearing your thoughts!

Disclaimer: Aspects of this chapter were taken directly from the novel: 'Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets,' written by JK Rowling. The relevant dialogue was not written by me, but inserted directly from the aforementioned book to ensure this chapter (and the others in this story) remain as close to the novel as possible.

'The Struggles of a Spy'

Chapter 2- The Chamber of Secrets

Severus' POV

I found myself in the same position as I was during Potter's first year; sitting at the staff table, listening to the chatter of the various professors sitting around me. Another year of classes… another year of protecting Harry Potter.

I was certain this year could not be worse than the last.

I stared out at the students who were still coming through the doors from the train station, waiting maliciously for Potter to walk through so I could consider ways of paying him back for going down the trap door the previous year and for stealing the House Cup from me. Perhaps Albus should have been responsible for the latter, but it was far more enjoyable to punish the boy instead.

As I attempted to find Potter amongst the sea of heads, my attention was taken by the taller, older wizard walking through the crowd towards the staff table. I only then realised that Albus, who was amongst us minutes ago, had somehow slid away without my noticing and was now returning appearing grim and concerned. I had expected him to walk towards the centre of the table to speak with Minerva as his deputy, but I knew by his gaze that he was walking to me.

It is rare that Albus reflects any form of negative emotion on his face, especially when among students, but he was not hiding his… fear? I could not take my eyes off him as he approached me; I had no idea what he was about to say or how it would involve me, but my heart had begun to race in anticipation of bad news.

"Come with me," is all he uttered. I was surprised to find that I was already half way out of my seat. I immediately obeyed and followed him hurriedly to one of the side rooms of the Great Hall.

"What is it, Albus?" I asked urgently once we were out of earshot.

Albus simply held out a newspaper. He said nothing.

I took the paper from his hands and unfolded it to see a photo of what appeared to be a flying car.

_Ford Anglia Mystifies Muggles_

I briefly skimmed through the article, but it did not provide any indication of who the car could belong to or why Albus appeared so grave.

When I finished reading, I looked up at Albus feeling confused.  
"Mr Weasley and Mr Potter were not on the Hogwarts Express," he announced to me quietly.

_Well it would have been helpful to have known that before seeing the article. _

"I believe this could be them," Albus continued, pointing at the image of the car still held in my hands.

Finally, I found the words to speak.

"Where would they obtain a flying car?" I questioned the headmaster. "Weasley's father surely would not possess such a thing given the department he works for."

"I hope you are correct, Severus, but if you are mistaken, Arthur will be in significant trouble. The other alternative is they happened to find a car with abilities to fly and knew how to drive it. I am not sure which is most unlikely."

_The latter, _I thought bitterly.

"Are you sure this is them?" I pressed Albus; his conclusion was rather short on evidence given all we had was a photo of a flying car.

"I hope so, Severus; they are not with their families or at either of their homes, so the alternatives are not particularly inviting."

"Very well," I allowed. "What would you like me to do about this?" I asked.

Albus looked me directly in the eye and I could see his concern reflected in them.

"Find them- keep them with you in your office. Notify Minerva and myself when you have them there; we will need to speak with them."

I smirked a little wondering whether I was finally going to witness Potter being punished for _something_. I had hoped potential consequences would include suspension or perhaps even expulsion just to serve them right for breaking the law, but I knew Albus would never allow it, and quite frankly it would make my protecting Potter far more difficult.

I gave Albus a single nod in understanding, and then left the Hall via a side entrance, whilst the headmaster returned to his usual duties at the staff table.

I was rather relieved to be free of the hustle and bustle that was associated with every Sorting, especially when the alternative was an investigation that would hopefully result in terrifying Potter and Weasley half to death with the threat of being expelled.

I smiled to myself; this could even be enjoyable.

I was not sure where they could be or whether they even managed to land. Of course, I was making a tremendous assumption that they were capable of navigating the car to Hogwarts in the first place. Nevertheless, I began to search the school grounds for evidence of a turquoise Ford Anglia, the sound of an engine or a crash. I walked reasonably quickly, not wishing to waste any time in any particular part of the grounds where there was clearly no evidence of Potter, Weasley, or their vehicle. However, due to it being dark outside, my lit wand was insufficient to light up a significant area around me; I could only see what was directly in front of me. After fifteen minutes of searching the grounds in this manner, I was concerned I may have missed them due to my poor visibility; perhaps they had suffered serious injuries upon crash landing which rendered me unable to hear them?

I turned around and began to retrace my steps when I heard a dying engine and muffled screams. I looked up in time to see a turquoise car rocket front first into none other than the Whomping Willow. I took a moment to register the fact that Albus' suspicions were correct; Potter and Weasley had indeed flown to Hogwarts in the flying car that was seen by seven Muggles. I marvelled briefly at their ability to navigate the car to the school before imagining their reactions when they realised the engine was failing and they were heading straight for the Whomping Willow. I was torn whether to smirk at the rather disastrous way their journey ended or to be somewhat concerned for their wellbeing.

Once I recovered from my shock, I made hasty strides towards the Whomping Willow to assess the damage to both the tree and my students. As I ran, I kept my eyes ahead of me to ensure I did not miss anything that may have taken place after they 'landed'. I saw the tree 'whomp' the car significantly, I watched as the chunk of metal and its inhabitants hit the ground heavily. I paused mid-stride and observed what they did next. Were they injured? Albus would be disgusted to know that I was standing stationary waiting to see if there was any movement in the distance or if I could hear their voices. Any reasonable person would have rushed over to assist them medically or practically, but I, a man responsible for protecting Potter's life, could not bring myself to show such urgency or care. If there was no movement after a few seconds, I would approach them, but as it were, there was evidence of life and speech as both Weasley and Potter discussed what to do about the flying car which decided (of its own accord) to drive away into the Forbidden Forest. Now that I knew they were still alive and mobile (I managed to ignore the relief I felt upon learning that Potter was not injured), I felt satisfied to observe them from afar.

_So boys, what are you going to do now? _I wondered.

Given what had just happened to them, I was somewhat curious to see how they would handle themselves after breaking countless legal and school rules. I also wanted to give them a few minutes of satisfaction in believing they actually 'got away with' before I crushed their hopes. In addition, I was desperate to lay on them at least one punishment, but nothing eventful took place and no further rules were broken in my presence. After a couple of minutes, the boys dragged their trunks towards the school with the appearance of being healthy and relatively well given the circumstances.

I watched somewhat disappointed as they trudged out of sight. I did not follow them immediately; I wanted to assess the damage the car had caused the Whomping Willow which looked far worse off than my students from this distance.

I carefully approached the moving, almost flailing tree, levitating a long stick in front of me as I walked. I prodded the knot in the tree trunk that forced the tree to remain stationary whilst I examined its appearance. Instantly, I noticed that three of the branches had been snapped, but had yet to fall to the ground due to the outer layer of bark continuing to hold each limb together. What was a beautiful, perfectly formed tree now looked unkempt and pathetic as its half connected boughs swayed in the wind. Professor Sprout would probably need to cut the three branches at the near severed sections. It was something I could do myself, but I wanted Albus and the other members of staff to see what Potter and Weasley had done to the magical tree. I prodded the knot again and watched as the tree struggled to move its damaged limbs. In fact, if I attempted to walk into its trunk, I did not think it had the strength to hit me. This made me consider whether the Whomping Willow could feel pain or whether movement was simply awkward for it. I made a mental note to inform Pomona of what happened next time I saw her.

Deciding I had given Potter and Weasley enough time to process what had happened and to carry their trunks up to the school, I left the injured tree in search of them once again. As I had predicted, the two boys were peeking through one of the windows that lined the left side of the Great Hall; clearly they were hoping to catch the Sorting. I vaguely remembered Minerva mentioning there would be yet another Weasley beginning their schooling this year- no doubt they wanted to find out which House she was sorted into.

_As if there is any doubt._

Having seen all of Ronald Weasley's older siblings enter Gryffindor house, I was certain his sister would follow the same pattern as the rest of them.

Perfectly, Potter and Weasley's backs were facing me, which provided me with the opportunity to sneak up on them. I was known for being a quiet mover, so was not surprised when I managed to be standing 6 feet from them without them sensing my approach. As fate would have it, I arrived in this position half a second from speaking when Potter observed:

"Hang on. There's an empty chair at the staff table… Where's Snape?"

"Maybe he's ill!" Weasley replied enthusiastically.

_They're making this too easy for me, _I thought with ironic delight. Such a moment as this was a gift to further the guilt and fear I hoped I would make them feel for what they had done. If someone were watching my expression, they would know that I planned to wait until they had said something truly offensive (for I knew they would eventually) before revealing my presence. The words they spoke did not offend me, but _they _were not aware of this which would make the expressions I would receive from them incredibly entertaining.

"Maybe he's left," Potter suggested with equal enthusiasm, "because he missed out on the Defence against the Dark Arts job again!"

"Or he might have been _sacked_!" Weasley added, clearly hopeful. "I mean, everyone hates him-"

_And there is my cue._

"Or maybe," I interjected in the coldest, stern voice I could muster, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."

Immediately, the boys spun around as if a lion had roared at them from behind. I smiled at them both, thrilled that my plan to terrify them was already working. Judging by the looks of doom on their faces, they knew they were in serious trouble.

"Follow me," I ordered and then led the way into the castle. There were countless things I was inclined to ask, or rather demand of them, but I decided to leave the air silent so their own imaginations could conjure up something far worse.

I took them down to the dungeons and allowed them to appreciate how very far away they were from the warmth and joy of the feast taking place above us.

"In!" I demanded of them as I pointed into my office, where I would keep them until Albus and Minerva could join us. My students obeyed without hesitation and I was thrilled to see the sheer horror and discomfort on both of their faces when they realised where they were.

Hoping that their imaginations had already conjured up the possibility of expulsion from the school, I decided to interrogate them to make that situation appear even more probable to them before informing Dumbledore that I had found them.

"So," I whispered in a way that engendered their attention, "the train isn't good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we, boys?" I teased them, whilst hiding my true curiosity as to why in Merlin's name they would decide to do such a thing; I would leave that to Albus and Minerva to ascertain.

"No, sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it-"

"Silence!" I responded coldly; my intention was to intimidate, not be victim to their pathetic excuses. "What have you done with the car?" I asked even though I knew full well where it went. I wanted to gradually expose them to the reality that their secret was no longer a secret. I picked up the paper which had been delivered to my office as it had to Dumbledore's earlier in the evening and unrolled it.

"You were seen," I hissed at them, revealing the front page and the headline: 'Flying Ford Anglia Mystifies Muggles'. To add to the injury of being caught red handed, I began to read.

"Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower… at noon in Norfolk, Mrs Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing .. Mr Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police … six or seven Muggles in all," I announced to them. "I believe _your _father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office?" I noted, staring at Weasley who had turned pale. And there was my answer and support for Albus' suspicions; the car indeed belonged to Arthur Weasley. This realisation forced my mouth into what I was sure would have been a nastier smile. "Dear, dear… his own son…"

I allowed the room to remain in silence for half a minute as I allowed my students to consider just how many people would be affected by their actions, and hoped that expulsion was looking like an ideal compromise if Arthur Weasley managed to keep his job.

"I noticed, in my search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow," I continued in the hope of even further adding to their conscience.

"That tree did more damage to _us _than we-" Weasley blurted out.

"_Silence_!" I snapped darkly; the tree was severely injured and they were not. While I was, admittedly glad of that fact and actually cared very little for the tree, it was the principle that these boys clearly did not understand. However, I felt it would be unkind for me to continue interrogating my students when the headmaster and other members of staff were still ignorant of their safety. I had a responsibility to them that could no longer be ignored.

"Most unfortunately, you are not in my house and the decision to expel you does not rest with me," I announced what I hoped was a terrifying bombshell. "I shall go and fetch the people who _do _have that happy power. You will wait here," I instructed them. I took the pleasure of observing both boys turn paler as they stared wide-eyed at one another, before I left in search for the headmaster and deputy headmistress.

I walked up the corridor towards the Entrance Hall and then re-entered the Great Hall through the same way I had exited when I went to search for Potter and Weasley. As if he could sense my approach, the moment I stepped foot into the side room, Albus turned in my direction and made eye contact with me. I gave him a nod of my head and gestured he come over to me. Albus garnered Minerva's attention, and the two of them rose from their chairs, the latter whispering something to Filius on their way out.

"Have you found them?" Albus asked urgently.

"Where are they?" Minerva asked apparently certain of the answer to Dumbledore's query.

"Yes," I replied quickly to Albus, "they are in my office," I notified Minerva.

"Well done Severus," the headmaster praised me, clearly relieved. "I will come down to your office once I have made a couple of announcements. In the mean time, Minerva may go with you; I will join you momentarily."

"Very well then," Minerva replied, and then turning to me, she requested that I lead the way to my office.

At first, we walked in silence, though I could see out of the corner of my eye, the stern look on her face and in her eyes; I could always rely on Professor McGonagall to provide ample discipline and I knew that this occasion would be no different. Of course, even expulsion was out of her repertoire, but I knew the boys would feel terrible for what they had done by the time Minerva was through with them. I provided the Deputy Head with the information I had gathered from our students. Once I removed the protective spells that prevented anyone getting into my office, I opened the door for Minerva and followed in behind her. I revelled in the power she had over Potter and Weasley- when she raised her wand the moment she walked inside, both of them flinched in response. What did they think she was going to do? Attack them? I tried hard to hide my smirk, though I imagine I was unsuccessful. I sat with elation as Minerva managed to rebut every single one of their excuses for why flying here was the only way to get to Hogwarts. The Head of Gryffindor House was not letting me down, and the more she spoke, the paler the boys became, and the happier I felt that finally someone other than me were seeing these kids accurately for the first time.

And of course, it was about to get worse for them, though not in the way I was expecting.

When there was a knock at the door, I opened it knowing it would be Albus. However, when he stepped in the room, and I pushed the door closed, I noticed that the headmaster appeared… disappointed. The room was silent- completely silent. The boys seemed too terrified to speak and I could see why; if Albus looked at me that way I would have known I acted in a way that was significantly below his expectations. It would not be a good feeling. Knowing that Potter and Weasley would not actually be expelled, the threat of it could have been interpreted simply from the way Albus was staring at them.

Eventually, the headmaster broke the silence.

"Please explain why you did this."

Potter explained the situation as best he could, lying through his teeth about how they found the car (it was evident Arthur Weasley owned it by the way his son reacted to every mention of the flying vehicle). As I had hoped, their justification did not impress Albus, and Weasley's response to the headmaster's continued disappointment was:

"We'll go and get our stuff."

"What are you talking about, Weasley?" Minerva asked sharply.

"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?" Ron attempted to confirm.

I smiled as I could feel the fear emanating from both of the boys by this very real possibility.

"Not today, Mr Weasley," replied Albus. "But I must impress upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both of your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you."

And again, the 'Chosen One' gets away with it, and I had no doubt they would be bragging about the experience to their classmates. Despite expecting this outcome, I was slightly disappointed that Albus did not hand out a punishment himself for once. Nevertheless, the result of Albus informing Mrs Weasley of her son's behaviour was highly amusing; the howler she sent arguably satisfied my desire to see at least one of the boys be appropriately humiliated in front of the school and staff.

Despite my attempts to remind Albus of the seriousness of their crimes, the headmaster had clearly had enough and managed to entice me away from my office with talk of the feast and a custard tart he wanted to 'sample'. Knowing this was his way of forcing me to let go and to leave the punishment-dealing to Minerva, I shot a severe stare at the two boys before following Dumbledore out of the room. We walked in silence. I was not sure exactly what was occupying the headmaster's mind, so I decided to speak only if spoken to.

"They could have been seriously injured or worse… Arthur will need to justify why he would magically enhance Muggle artefacts... Sometimes our students seem to lose access to their brains," Albus muttered just loud enough for me to hear. I was not sure if he was speaking to me, but I decided not to reply. His disappointment with Potter and Weasley was now evident to me; in addition to potentially revealing our world's existence to numerous Muggles, they had placed their own lives and the welfare of the Weasleys in jeopardy. I knew that if I spent the time to search my own feelings beyond the anger I felt towards them, I would find similar fears that something could have happened to Potter. Albus' plans and my path to redemption could have been annihilated that evening and there was nothing we could have done about it…

**_~CS~ CS~ CS~_**

Unfortunately, as the days went by, life did not significantly improve for Potter. This meant that Albus and I were engaged in various discussions and speculations on a weekly basis in addition to our other numerous roles. Although we did not address it that first night, the concern surrounding exactly why Potter and Weasley were not able to get through the barrier to Platform 9 and ¾ was later mentioned with very few truly possible explanations. This, in addition to the rogue bludger whose sole purpose seemed to be to knock Potter off his broom, told me that someone did not want Potter at Hogwarts this year, but now that he was, they wanted him to pay for it. Albus seemed to think the same individual was responsible for causing both incidents, but we were no closer to working out who it was. Once again, Potter was caught up in an incredible, mysterious mess. The previous year, I was attempting to protect the boy from himself and his own curiosity, but this year, I was trying to shield him from an unknown cause that seemed determined to hurt or kill the boy. The constant vigilance required of my mind in order to satisfy all of my roles was beginning to shake my sanity. Was this how every year would be? Now that Potter was actively present in our world, it seemed there were a line of people who had it in for the boy.

When I mentioned this to Albus, he reflected that he had expected this to happen, which is why he had engendered my assistance soon after Lily's death. I knew better than to complain, so decided to remain silent on the matter and continued functioning as best I could.

The apparent re-opening of the Chamber of Secrets should have rendered me less able to maintain my façade and cope with my increasing stress, but it had little effect… at first. Perhaps this was because Mrs Norris was the first to be petrified, an occasion that I found somewhat amusing. Having said that, it was also clear to me that Potter and his friends were not there by coincidence- _something _brought them up there. I tried to trap Potter, throwing one inconsistency at him after another in the hope he would eventually cave and reveal why he was so close to the scene of the crime. Sadly, none of us gained any knowledge from him despite it being painfully obvious that he was hiding something. After all, no student misses a school feast except for extraordinary circumstances. If left alone with me, I would have been able to force the boy to crack, but as it was, Lockhart was attempting to stuff his empty head where it did not belong, and during my frustration with him, Albus dismissed the trio from our presence, which deprived me of the opportunity I had hoped to utilise with a vulnerable Potter.

Prior to the attack, I knew of the Chamber of Secrets and its connection with Salazar Slytherin. However, the occurrence of the attack prompted me to research further into its origins and the myths associated with the place. Where was it? Who is the Heir of Slytherin? What creature lay within? Unfortunately very little information was documented in the books I possessed, which made me wonder whether the most recent Heir was discovered after these texts were published.

The distress and concern I felt as a result of the re-opened Chamber only began after Mr Creevey was similarly petrified. To petrify an animal was one thing, but to petrify a student? My concern for Potter and my students had intensified ten-fold, and interestingly, the evidence surrounding the incident also seemed to trigger something in Albus. I was provided with the honour of being the first and perhaps only member of staff to hear his thoughts on the matter. As I soon discovered, there was little use of history books when you could consult Albus Dumbledore.

The night Mr Creevey was attacked Albus invited me to his office. When I arrived, I walked towards the chair in front of his desk, sat down and waited.

And waited...

And waited...

When Albus eventually sat in the armchair behind his desk, he looked worried and pre-occupied. Although I had expected this given the significant turn of events that took place within the last hour, I sensed there was something further that was bothering him.

"Albus?" I spoke; no longer comfortable with the silence and anticipation I was feeling.

Dumbledore's gaze landed on mine as he rested his chin on top of his interlocked fingers.

"I need you to do some investigatory work for me, Severus," the headmaster eventually began, though his tone was grim. "There is more to this than meets the eye."

I have learnt from experience, that when Albus needs further investigations to be conducted it is merely to provide support for his own suspicions. Knowing this, I was not about to agree to anything until Albus had confided in me what he suspected- at least then, I could be somewhat prepared for what I might find.

"What do you suspect?" I could not mistake the slight quirk in Albus' eyebrow in reaction to my question. "What do you _know_?" I rephrased my query.

Dumbledore gave me a half-hearted smile.

"More than most," he replied, followed by a heavy sigh.

"And I don't suppose you are inclined to share your knowledge with me?" I asked, already feeling frustrated.

"Not at this moment," Albus said kindly, but I sensed he intended to tell me at some stage.

I sighed. "What do you want me to do?"  
"I do not believe it was a coincidence that Harry was there the night Mrs Norris was attacked. I am certain you feel the same."

I nodded my head in response; the boy knew something. However, Albus' statement also brought a smirk to my lips because the cat drove me nuts- the number of times I had nearly tripped over the stupid thing. That curiosity had yet to kill _her _was astonishing to me, and it didn't help her case to have Filch as her owner, not that I had anything against the man; he can be very helpful at times.

"He knew or sensed something," Albus pondered quietly, "I am certain of it."

I raised my eyebrows at Albus in disbelief.

Albus looked at me seriously then- a look that told me he had legitimate concerns.  
I had a strange inclination to repeat my own bitter words to the headmaster: perhaps Potter was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"What could the boy possibly know that you don't?"

"Well," Albus replied with a modest smile, "I would not say he knows something I do not, rather he has become aware of something he did not learn from us."

I sighed. "Albus, if you already know what Potter knows, couldn't you simply tell me what it is you suspect, and I will endeavour to find evidence for you?" I suggested; surely my idea was far simpler and more productive than our circular dialogue.

The headmaster chuckled at my impatience.

"I fear you may not believe me if I told you." I wanted to object; I rarely disagreed with Albus' speculations. "No, I think it is best you remain ignorant of my suspicions for now."

"He will not confide in me," I reminded Albus, slightly annoyed that he had not realised this significant fault in his plan.

"You misunderstand me," Albus said calmly. "I wish for you to investigate- experiment-"

"How?" I queried.

Albus paused, though it was not for the purpose of thinking, but for effect.

"I have given Professor Lockhart permission to start a Duelling Club to assist the students to learn how to defend themselves-"

"They'll learn nothing from him," I interrupted matter-of-factly, fed up with the allowances Albus was providing to Lockhart when he clearly knew very little of duelling or anything of the DADA curriculum.

Dumbledore silently gestured to me.

"Which is one of the reasons why I am asking you to be there, Severus."

"And the other reason?"

"To conduct the experiment," he answered simply.

"What do you mean, exactly?" I replied sceptically.

"I am hoping that during the course of the Duelling Club, you will have the opportunity to implement my plan…"

I listened patiently as Albus explained his plan to me. It was short and to the point, though as to what that point was, I was left in the dark. All I could say in reply was:

"You are asking me to break protocol?" I objected in benign shock that the headmaster was requesting I act in a manner that was against his own school rules.

Albus gave me a grim smile.

"I am willing to permit you this exception, Severus; I believe what you will discover in that moment will be far more important than the school rule which you would be breaking. Rest assured I want to hear every detail."

I did not disappoint him.

**_~CS~CS~CS~_**

Two weeks later the first Duelling Club lesson took place. Since my conversation with Albus, I had managed to alter my mindset to a level where I was somewhat looking forward to observing Lockhart make a complete and utter fool of himself. Incompetent students (despite a reasonable education) were one thing, but incompetent professors were an entirely different matter that infuriated me to no end. If such a professor acknowledged their faults and limitations, I would be more forgiving, but Lockhart's head was proportionately larger than Potter's (in a manner of speaking) which was saying something. After dinner, I returned briefly to my office to mentally prepare myself to cope with Lockhart's incompetence, foolishness, and the injuries that were likely to result once students are permitted to duel one another. I would also need to keep the Slytherins in line (within reasonable limits of course; we would not want to eliminate all of the possible enjoyment that could come of this night) and actively prevent Malfoy and Potter having a significant go at each other.

Once I was ready, I ascended the castle with my wand clutched in my hand, prepared for the amusing torture I was about to endure.

The evening begun as I had expected: with a speech by none other than Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Duelling Club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions- for full details," _of the magic you wish you could do, _"see my published works".

It was incredibly difficult not to scoff.

"Let me introduce my assistant Professor Snape," Lockhart said with an enthusiastic smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin." I held my composure by releasing all my malice into the smile that formed on my lips.

A 'tiny little bit about duelling' hmmm? I could take him on with my eyes closed, and as for my role in the demonstration? Well, there would be nothing for them to _see_ if I was not there to add the magic into _said_ demonstration.

"Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry- you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" Lockhart continued. How was it possible that each sentence was more preposterous than the last? This time, I struggled not to laugh at the absurdity of his words; three quarters of the students would likely _prefer_ my demise, and I doubt any of the students with a brain would truly believe Lockhart could finish me off.

_Seriously…_

As is customarily done before a duel begins, we stood opposite one another and bowed. I struggled to do this appropriately because bowing would suggest I had respect for my opponent or that this was a serious duel. Given neither was true, I refused to do anything more than tilt my head slightly forward in his direction. The room was dead silent, no doubt in anticipation of what was about to happen.

"On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

_Indeed, but only because I value my job more than the loss of your life._

On the count of three, I casted "Expelliarmus" which resulted in Lockhart quite humorously losing his wand… amongst other things. My frustration with Lockhart was clearly portrayed through my magic, not that the students would have noticed this, as the man went flying through the air and smacked into the wall behind him. I felt no remorse for the accidental force behind my spell and was not wholly concerned for his wellbeing either. My indifference for his wellbeing developed into a strong disregard for it when Lockhart next spoke.

"Yes, an excellent idea to show them that Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had acted to stop you, it would have been only too easy. However, I thought it would have been instructive to let them see…"

_If it was so obvious why didn't you place a shield around you, you fool? Or at least minimise the influence of my spell so you didn't go flying across the damn room? Too easy, was it? Shall we do a replay? _I shouted at him in my head. I felt my blood boiling, my heart racing as I stared at the pompous man before me. Perhaps noticing my expression, Lockhart averted his gaze from mine and suggested we pair up the students so they could practice duelling with one another.

Luckily for Lockhart, this suggestion reminded me of the true reason why I was helping him with this club; to implement Albus' plan. Immediately, I walked over to the Golden Trio with the intention of pairing Potter with Malfoy. I did this with success to the disappointment of the former. Alongside the rest of the class, Potter and Malfoy duelled (the latter cheating as I expected he would), though I paid little attention to their progress. I was preparing to suggest that two students be chosen to do a demonstration of what they had learnt (which should have been to disarm the other person), when Lockhart beat me to it. Somewhat relieved that he suggested the idea first, which would make my agenda less apparent to anyone astute enough to put the pieces together, I volunteered Potter and Malfoy. I had to give Albus credit for formulating a plan containing a set of behaviours and dialogue I may have actually used in a situation such as this had it not been for the moral principles Albus usually forced onto me.

The plan would have been too dangerous to implement when all of the students were crammed together, but now with a larger space to 'play with', I pulled Malfoy aside to provide him with some 'tips' as Lockhart was supposedly doing for Potter.

With a mindset that was not wholly acted; I did not want Malfoy to lose to Potter after all, I bent forward to whisper into Malfoy's ear.

"Use Serpensortia- he won't know what to do."

Malfoy's narrowed eyes and broad grin told me he was imagining Potter fleeing or screaming out of the room. I watched with apprehension as Draco strutted to the centre of the duelling podium. It was now up to the boy to complete Albus' plan. I tried to appear relaxed and comfortable; I wanted the other students to believe I thought this merely a prank rather than something with an actual purpose. I loosened my grip on my wand and placed an amused expression on my face. I was glad Granger appeared worried to my right- she knew, as I am sure most would, that Malfoy's next move would be the one I suggested.

My heart was pounding as I watched my students bow and prepare to duel. As expected, Draco yelled: "Serpensortia!" which was followed by a black snake being conjured onto the floor between them. I watched carefully as I was inclined to do even if Albus had not requested a complete recount. I gave Draco the benefit of being satisfied that in fact, Potter's reaction was a tremendous let down; nothing happened except Potter showing an expected level of vigilance.

I sighed inwardly; within seconds I ascertained that Albus' plan had not worked; nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I announced to Potter that I would "deal with it", when Lockhart foolishly stepped in and did God knows what to the snake. The thump was clearly audible as the snake returned to the floor after being shot up into the air, and immediately turned its attention to Mr Finch Fletchley.

_Bloody perfect, _I muttered to myself, prepared to eliminate the snake before it could do any damage to my students. However, my services were not required. Ironically, Lockhart's infuriatingly poor skills had worked in my favour for once- I finally saw evidence of something unusual and almost unbelievable.

Potter was _hissing._

I narrowed my eyes to ensure they were not deceiving me. The hissing I heard was not coming from the snake, but from Potter's mouth. I watched the boy like my life depended on it; I had no doubt that this is what Albus had hoped would happen, though how the boy could speak Parseltongue was an utter mystery to me. For a split second, I was motionless as ridiculous possibilities passed through my mind from his actually being the Heir of Slytherin to him playing a practical joke to scare his peers. However, Potter's hissing seemed to have almost full control over the snake's behaviour. I watched, transfixed as the snake turned its attention away from one boy to the other, but instead of rearing and flashing its fangs at Potter, it lay on the ground watching the boy submissively.

Before Potter could place himself in any further danger, I eradicated the snake in a deliberate tone: "Evanesco".

The room stood still.

I was not surprised when Mr Finch Fletchley left the room in a hurry; I would too if one of my fellow students hissed at the snake that was clearly about to attack me.

Potter was oblivious as to why his peers were staring at him white as sheets, furious or terrified. Bewildered, the boy was dragged away by Weasley. I let them go- I did not need to speak to them: clearly he had no inclination of what just happened nor the implications he's being a Parselmouth would have. I hoped Weasley and Granger would enlighten him.

Throughout this ordeal, which could not have lasted more than 2 minutes, Lockhart managed to regain his ability to speak. He tried and failed miserably to regain order of the students who had erupted into discussion. The Slytherins looked annoyed that Potter clearly possessed the sacred gift of Salazar Slytherin himself and disappointed that my 'brilliant' suggestion did not shame the boy as a wimp. The other students were slightly more honourable in their reactions. Some felt sorry for Mr Finch Fletchley, others thought Potter was 'egging' the snake on, while still others were convinced Potter was the Heir of Slytherin. The more hopeful students wondered whether the boy had faked being able to communicate with the snake. Of course, any educated wizard would have seen that Potter was not encouraging the snake, nor was he faking his ability; he had told the snake to stop its impending attack, and the snake not only understood him, but willingly obeyed him.

Considering what I had witnessed, I was in no mood for speculations. I had a report to provide to perhaps the one person who could explain what the hell I just saw and heard. I overrode Lockhart's authority and called the students to attention before dismissing them. I knew better than to forbid them not to speak of what they witnessed to the other students. A dragon would have been more willing to obey. The students could not leave the room faster and to my dread, my colleague crossed the room to engage me in conversation.

"My, my Professor Snape, such an eventful first lesson that was!"

"Yes," I dismissed as I attempted to escape his presence by walking faster.

"Extraordinary situation with Mr Potter- so much more to him than meets the eye."

I nodded as I pushed my legs to walk even quicker without running, towards the Headmaster's office.

"But of course, I had the opportunity to learn Parselmouth once. I imagine I would have been quite proficient had it not been-"

"I must inform Professor Dumbledore of what has happened-" I interrupted him loudly.

"Yes. I should accompany you," he insisted.

"No, that will not be necessary- perhaps you should make sure the students have returned to their dormitories?" I suggested.

Lockhart's disappointment was evident on his face, but he nevertheless obeyed my order. Now free of him, I walked slightly slower towards Albus and the answers only he could provide.

**_~CS~CS~CS~_**

After taking Albus through the series of events that took place during the Duelling Club, the headmaster remained silent and contemplative.

"Albus, how is Potter able to speak Parseltongue?" I demanded. Given the experiment he entrusted me with, I was certain Dumbledore knew the answer.

Albus breathed a heavy sigh as he leant forward in his armchair to rest his chin on his interlocked fingers.

"I believe Voldemort transferred some of his abilities to Harry the night he failed to kill him. It would have been by complete accident, of course," Dumbledore clarified.

"I did not know that was even possible," I stated in shock.

"Surviving the Killing Curse should not have been possible," Albus countered me kindly. "There are many things to learn about the strange connection Voldemort and Harry share."

I sensed that Dumbledore was headed down the 'prophecy' path which I was not in the mood to hear given the urgency of our current situation.

"So Potter is not the Heir of Slytherin," I attempted to confirm. Albus greeted my query with a large smile.

"No Severus, he's not," he chuckled, but then became serious once more. "Voldemort however is a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin."

I was forced to clear my throat after nearly choking on my own breath.

"Excuse me?"

_The Dark Lord was the Heir of Slytherin? The Dark Lord __again__? How did he keep reappearing like this?_

Albus studied my face to assess my level of distress, no doubt to determine exactly how much he should tell me.

I decided to save him the effort.

"Tell me everything Albus; we are not about to repeat what happened the last time I was unprepared for an interaction with the Dark Lord!" I heatedly reminded him.

"Severus, calm down," Albus encouraged gently. "I will tell you everything I know and suspect regarding this matter. All I ask in return is that you do not share this information with anyone, including other members of staff."

Relieved that I did not need to do any further convincing, I felt myself relax as I nodded my head to show I agreed to his terms.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened once in my lifetime," Albus began, his eyes locked on mine. "This event took place half a century ago when I was the Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. I imagine anyone alive at that time would recall what happened the last time the Chamber was opened: one of our Muggleborn students was killed," he informed me solemnly.

"How?" I asked urgently.

"I will explain shortly," Dumbledore assured me, holding up his hand briefly. I forced myself to remain silent as I continued to listen to his tale.

"History is currently repeating itself. Fifty years ago, the same order of events happened: messages were written in blood on the wall and multiple Muggleborn students were petrified. All of the staff and the headmaster at the time, Professor Dippet were working tirelessly to catch the individual responsible. Unfortunately, the perpetrator was seamless in covering their tracks."

"It was the Dark Lord," I assumed in a dead tone.

"Mmm yes," Albus replied, but he was moving his head in such a way that told me there was more to the story. "The reason why I hesitate," he explained, "was that I believe I am the only person who believes it _was _Tom."

"You are not making sense," I replied calmly; Who _wouldn't _believe the Dark Lord was capable of such crimes?

Albus gave me a half-hearted smile and then averted his gaze to my left. In reminiscence, he continued:

"Tom Marvolo Riddle was one of the brightest students Hogwarts has ever had. He was appointed Head Boy in his final year, was Prefect before that, and had almost every teacher in awe of his charm, wit and incredible magical ability."

"Except you," I surmised; if Dumbledore was the only one the Dark Lord ever feared it would be because Albus could see right through him.

"Correct," Albus nodded in my direction. "Fifty years ago, I had reason to believe Tom had finally, for I was certain he had been trying to work it out for some time, discovered the location of the Chamber of Secrets. Knowing he was perhaps destined to open the Chamber, I know Tom would have entered it, discovered the creature that lay within, and used it to petrify several of his fellow students. Can you guess what the creature may be, Severus?" Albus asked of me almost as if I were his student again.

"A snake?" I ventured simply because the emblem of Slytherin House was a snake, but then I realised what I was truly saying. "Which the Dark Lord would have been able to control- do you think Potter can hear it?" I asked quickly, my tone rising as the pieces began to fall into place.

"Yes, a snake- a basilisk to be precise, which has the ability to petrify living creatures through indirect eye contact, and even kill if directly gazed at. And yes, I do suspect Potter can hear it," Albus replied with a small smile. "I believe that is why he was near Mrs Norris when she was petrified- I am certain he heard the snake and followed its voice. Of course, he would not have known that it was a snake because without a visual cue, he cannot differentiate between Parseltongue and English".

"So you wanted me to carry out tonight's plan to confirm that Potter is a Parselmouth- that the Dark Lord somehow transferred that ability to him?"

"Precisely," Dumbledore agreed, "and now I understand how Harry fits into the current sequence of events. However, _how _Tom has re-opened the Chamber still remains a mystery to me; my sources inform me that he is currently in Albania and in no condition to travel to Hogwarts."

"So you don't think he is here?" I asked, feeling slightly relieved; the possibility of having to confront the Dark Lord was the last thing I needed.

"I think it would be more accurate to say that I do not believe the _present _Tom is here, but I do believe an echo of him or a different form of him is somehow involved."

"Is that even possible?" I asked. "Surely someone would have noticed if a past version of the Dark Lord were in the school- we would know if he were here," I insisted; I was not willing to consider the alternative.

"It _is_ possible, I'm afraid," Albus answered me, concern etched in the lines of his face.

"Then how has no one noticed an additional presence in the school since the Chamber was re-opened?" I demanded.

"I am sure someone _has_ noticed, but they are not aware of _who_ the echo is."

"Albus…" I uttered through gritted teeth; clearly I was missing some information and I had no patience to decipher Dumbledore's cryptic statements.

"As I was saying earlier in our conversation, I was perhaps the only professor Tom had who did not buy into his façade. I do not claim to be more insightful and less gullible than my peers," Albus reassured me. "Rather, I had the privilege, perhaps, of collecting Tom from the orphanage in which he was raised. There, I heard about how he was treated and how he acted within that institution. His carers informed me that he was a strange child, never cried, kept to himself, would invite other children on small excursions which resulted in that child being 'different' when they returned. When I visited Tom's room, I sensed dishonesty in him, and soon discovered that he had stolen various items from the other children which he kept in his wardrobe. I knew even then," Dumbledore paused to make sure I was paying attention, "that Tom would be a powerful and likely dangerous wizard. He had already learnt to control his magic, he had already discovered he could hurt the other children if he wanted to, and he also knew he could speak to snakes. I hope you can understand why I was uneasy about him starting at Hogwarts," I nodded my head, "but all I could do at that stage was warn him that no such behaviour would be tolerated at the school. Much to my relief, he considered my warning, but I could not ignore the way he was admired by his peers and his other professors. He never broke the school rules, always did what he was told, and mastered all aspects of magic with apparent ease. Tom appeared perfect, but I knew what drove every single one of those perfections: Power.

"I had no doubt that the moment Tom had access to information about his heritage, he would have sought his family tree. Once he discovered that he was the Heir of Slytherin through his mother's side, I suspect locating the Chamber of Secrets would have been at the forefront of his mind.

"I was similarly curious about Tom's heritage, so privately researched his family tree in an attempt to discover how an 11 year old wizard could already demonstrate so much talent without the guidance of our world. Tellingly, he was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin. So, when the Chamber was opened fifty years ago, I immediately suspected Tom to be the culprit. However, by that stage, he had had six years to garner the admiration of his peers and my colleagues. I soon realised that my suggesting that Tom was at all responsible would be consider ludicrous, _even _if I could prove he was the Heir of Slytherin.

"After several attacks, the concern I held for my students was mounting to near intolerable levels; I knew that if Tom did not have a reason to stop, he wouldn't until every last Muggleborn student was petrified or worse. The tragic death of one of my students was ironically the catalyst that ended Tom's tirade. After this event, the Ministry had determined that the school was no longer safe for students and would close down until the culprit was caught and the Chamber closed. For Tom this would mean being sent back to the orphanage for an indefinite amount of time. After he confirmed with the headmaster Professor Dippet that the school would remain open if the one responsible was caught and the attacks stopped, Tom implemented a clever plan- one I personally have difficulty forgiving him for.

"Tom had discovered that the basilisk was not the only potentially dangerous creature in the castle. He had known for some time that another student had been keeping an Acromantula as a pet. Tom had been spying on this boy for some time to see what the spider could do, and over many weeks, he had learnt of the boy's routine. The night after the announcement that Hogwarts would close, Tom confronted the boy for the first time and insisted that his spider was responsible for the death of the Muggleborn girl." Albus' tone had suddenly become bitter and his eyes narrowed as he continued speaking into the distance.

"Tom framed the boy for the attacks, brought him to the attention of the school governors and the Ministry. Now that the culprit was 'caught', Tom closed the Chamber so the basilisk could no longer attack students, which meant the school would remain open. For his efforts, Tom was awarded a 'Services to the School' plaque, and the accused, despite the protestations of the boy and me, was deemed guilty. As a consequence, the boy was expelled and his wand destroyed."

I waited for more, but Albus had ceased speaking- the memory clearly angered him and I could understand why; the Dark Lord had committed a terrible crime (the first of many) at the expense of another boy's right to an education and a wand.

I allowed Albus to sit in silence for a minute before I spoke.

"Is this why no one would suspect the Dark Lord now? Because someone was framed for his crime and everyone believed it except you?"

"Correct. But a greater issue is that Tom Riddle looked very different from Lord Voldemort. Although they are the same person, once Tom left school he delved so deep into the Dark Arts that he surfaced looking more snake than man- gone was the attractive boy that his professors and peers had admired. To this day, I believe there are some professors who find it difficult to accept that the handsome, intelligent, and thoughtful boy they taught has become the most feared and powerful dark wizard our world has ever known," Albus informed me solemnly.

"Does this mean that if this 'echo' of the Dark Lord looks like Tom Riddle and perhaps introduced himself as Tom Riddle, people would not know who he is?"

"Exactly," Albus sighed. "I have no doubt Tom is responsible for the current attacks, but the question is _how _heis influencing someone to _do _this…"

I nodded, lost in the multitude of possibilities.

"Do you have any further plans you wish for me to implement?" I eventually asked.

Albus looked up at me wearily.

"Not at the moment, Severus, but thank you. I will let you know if I derive any hypotheses worth testing. I just hope Tom does not have the satisfaction of successfully closing Hogwarts this time."

"We will do everything we can to make sure a student does not die, Albus," I attempted to reassure him.

"Of course, but it nevertheless frustrates me that Tom once again has the upper hand. The only blessing is that I now hold the position of Headmaster- I will not allow him to destroy the prospects of another one of my students."

Given the tone in Albus' voice I knew he would do anything necessary to make sure another student is not framed for the Dark Lord's actions.

"Albus, could I ask who the Dark Lord framed fifty years ago? What became of them?" I asked because I imagined Albus would have tried to assist them as much as possible.

For the first time since Albus began his story, he gave me a smile, however small.

"It was Hagrid."

I released a stifled snort because I should have guessed; no one else would willingly keep an Acromantula for a pet except Rubeus Hagrid. I had also noticed that Hagrid did not possess a wand as such, but I knew he could still perform magic…

"You disguised his wand in an umbrella?" I asked. My lips twitched at the way Albus managed to use his creativity to ensure the Dark Lord did not completely succeed in destroying Hagrid's life.

"Yes, rather successfully if I may say so myself," Albus replied somewhat brightly. "When I became Headmaster of Hogwarts, I invited Hagrid to work as the Games Keeper and offered to teach him the basics he would have learnt during his fourth to seventh years of his schooling. He has lived here ever since."

"I have noticed that your relationship with Hagrid is different than those you share with the other professors," I observed.

"Now you know why," Albus said quietly as he rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "Did you have any other questions, Severus?"

I shook my head. "Not at the moment, though I am sure I will have some later once my mind has had time to fully comprehend all of this," I muttered.

"Of course," Albus replied as he stood up. I knew he was politely trying to dismiss me, so I rose out of my chair as well. "As I said at the beginning of our conversation, it is vital that you keep this information to yourself; we do not want the students or staff to believe that Voldemort has returned or that Hagrid could be at all responsible. I hope that with both of us being aware of what truly happened in the past, we can gather clues as to how Voldemort is re-opening the Chamber now."

I nodded my head. "I will let you know if I notice anything that may be of importance."

"I would appreciate that, Severus, and thank you for your full recount of tonight's events- I am hopeful that Harry will disclose what he has been hearing before it's too late."

"You're welcome," I replied, "and with regard to Potter: we can only hope. Good night, Albus," I farewelled the headmaster and then descended the floors towards the dungeons.

My mind was filled with the revelations about my previous master. I was so deep in thought that I did not realise I had arrived at my quarters until I was standing outside the door. I removed the protective spells, stepped inside, and then replaced them before walking over to my desk. There, I noticed a memo sitting on top of the essays I was marking.

_All students are safe in their dormitories. I hope Professor Dumbledore approved of our first lesson- I look forward to resuming the club same time next week._

This message was followed by the elaborate signature of Gilderoy Lockhart.

I sighed, dreading the next time I would need to stand opposite that joke of a teacher to perform yet another demonstration.

I had Lockhart to thank for the first nightmare I had that night.

The second dream I had was of my students who were being possessed by the Dark Lord's 'spirit' for lack of a more appropriate term. My cover had been blown, and in the darkest of rooms, a pair of bright red, snake-like eyes suddenly appeared out of the black and hissed.

"TRAITOR!"

I woke with a start. It took ten minutes to convince my racing mind and heart that the Dark Lord was not lurking in my bedroom waiting for the right moment to kill me…

**_~CS~CS~CS~_**

As the fates would have it, none other than Mr Finch Fletchley was petrified the following day. Of course, Potter happened to be nearby. The whole school was in chaos, and several of my students were convinced Potter was the Heir of Slytherin. I heard this from Albus after he had met with Potter in his office to directly ask the boy if there was anything he wanted to say. Naturally, the boy remained foolishly quiet- I could only assume he refused to speak because he thought Albus would think he was somehow responsible for the recent attacks. Consequently, Albus learnt nothing from Potter which left us no closer to understanding how the Dark Lord had re-opened the Chamber of Secrets than before.

Although classes were conducted as normal, I observed that my students were more vigilant and reactive than was normal for them. Other than my occasional paranoia that the Dark Lord had somehow possessed Malfoy or another one of the Slytherins to spy on me (courtesy of my nightmare) I remained relatively intact and unaffected…

Two weeks later, Hagrid was taken to Azkaban- clearly they wanted to blame _someone- _and the school governors, undoubtedly encouraged by Lucius, suspended Albus as Headmaster for not being able to stop the attacks. Evidently _removing _Albus as headmaster was the key to capture the Heir of Slytherin.

_Bloody ludicrous_.

Nothing would stop the Dark Lord from revealing himself or attacking even more students now. It took me a good half hour to process the fact that the governors were stupid enough to remove the one person the Dark Lord feared, though I suppose they did not know that the Dark Lord was the one responsible…

I sat in my office for some time processing the fact that I was the only one at Hogwarts who knew the full reality of the situation. I knew Hagrid's imprisonment was a desperate move on Fudge's behalf to appear proactive rather than to punish the man for an actual crime. Despite the unjustified treatment Hagrid endured, I knew Albus would not want me to reveal the information I knew unless I had equal proof that the Dark Lord was the current perpetrator. I decided to focus all of my remaining energy on attempting to discover who had a connection with the Dark Lord's 'echo', but without anyone to consult, my job had become substantially harder.

A few weeks after Albus' suspension, Miss Granger and Miss Clearwater were petrified. I wondered if the Dark Lord would work his way through every Muggleborn and then use the basilisk to murder the final one. Every day I existed minute by minute: Were all of the students still alive? Was the Dark Lord acting under his previous name of Tom Riddle? Had I said anything that would alert others to the truth? What was Albus doing and what was I supposed to do if I ever saw the Dark Lord's past self? And what was I to do if somehow he captured Potter and took him into the Chamber of Secrets? How could I go after him or any other student when I did not know where it was?

One afternoon, I feared that history had succeeded in making a complete revolution, ending with the death of a Muggleborn student. I listened intensely as Minerva informed the staff that a girl had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. I gripped the back of the chair in front of me, my knuckles turning white under the pressure.

"How can you be sure?" I asked, true fear filling me for the first time that year.

"The Heir of Slytherin left another message. Right underneath the first one: _Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber for ever._"

I felt sick with panic; I feared this very moment would come and here it was. I used the chair in front of me, which Madam Hooch had sunk in to, as a means of support.

"Who is it? Which student?" Madam Hooch asked in a small voice.

"Ginny Weasley," Minerva replied.

I allowed myself a moment of relief, but only for a moment. This did not follow the Dark Lord's pattern; Ginny Wealsley was a pure blood witch from a pure bloodline, and consequently as far from a Muggleborn as one could get. This knowledge allowed me to hope that perhaps the Dark Lord did not intend to kill Miss Weasley, but to use her as a way of luring Potter to him. I needed to consider a plan of action carefully and tried to do so with my colleagues speaking quietly around me. However, when Lockhart made his grand entrance, tardy as always, I immediately intervened; I was not putting up with his nonsense today.

"Just the man," I stated, "the very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."

_Let's begin to dig your professional grave._

Thankfully my colleagues were as infuriated with Lockhart as I was, and promptly, without hesitation they supported me by continuing my charade.

"That's right, Gilderoy," added Professor Sprout. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"I – well, I-" spluttered Lockhart.

I am not ashamed to admit that I took delight in his discomfort.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" Filius pointed out.

"D-did I? I don't recall…"

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested," I said, remembering the ridiculous moment perfectly; as if a wizard such as him would stand a chance. "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

"I… I really never… You may have misunderstood…"

"We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy," said Minerva. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last," she concluded with finality.

"V-very well," he said. "I'll- I'll be in my office, getting- getting ready."

I had no doubt those words were code for 'running back to my office like a coward, packing my things and leaving the school before I would willing admit that I am as useless as a Squib'.

"Right," continued Minerva briskly once Lockhart had left, her nostrils impressively flared with agitation, "that's got _him _out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories."

Obediently we left our meeting place silently with the intention of implementing the task Minerva had set us. As she requested, I notified my students that the school would be closing and to pack their belongings in anticipation of the Hogwarts Express arriving the following morning. Immediately after this announcement, I ascended to the owlery and sent an urgent letter to Albus. I was certain Minerva would have already done this, but I knew I could provide greater insight into the matter than she could purely due to the knowledge Albus had shared with me.

_Miss Weasley in Chamber. Believe it's a trap for Potter. School to close and students to return home tomorrow. Believe Potter will act tonight so school will not close. Require your urgent assistance and advice._

_SS_

I watched anxiously as the owl flew quickly south. I had no idea where Albus was staying or perhaps hiding, but I knew he would be difficult to find by any means other than an owl or a Patronus. I felt there was more I could have done, but I could think of nothing. I felt useless; without the ability to speak Parseltongue and without knowledge of where the Chamber was, I could not save Miss Weasley or protect Potter if he attempted to rescue her. My only alternative was to go with Potter and presumably Mr Weasley, but I knew I would not be able to stomach such an expedition.

I returned to a chaotic dungeon; the students who were absent from my original announcement had apparently refused to believe the other students that the school was closing. It took me a ridiculous 40 minutes to convince all of my students that this information was correct, and I was not 'joking'. I kept a close eye on each of my students to determine whether any of them reacted unusually- whether any of them had any inclination to perhaps admit that they were guilty of opening the Chamber or of capturing Miss Weasley. Unfortunately, everyone appeared understandably surprised that Miss Weasley was in the Chamber and disappointed by the decision to close the school.

After packing my own belongings which were sitting by my office door, I collapsed onto my bed. I stared at the ceiling believing, but being strangely calm about the very real possibility, that Potter and Weasley were attempting to enter the Chamber of Secrets. My body was near sleep when a tap at the window above my bed startled me to full consciousness.

I begrudgingly walked towards my window, the light of the bright moon shone through which allowed me to see clearly as I moved. I opened the glass pane and was greeted by a large black owl which promptly stuck its leg out for me to remove the letter attached.

I quietly thanked the bird, which flew off without expecting payment, closed the window gently, and then unscrolled the parchment. My heart jumped at the sight of the long, narrow cursive writing that occupied a portion of the sheet.

_Your speculations were correct. However, they are relatively safe. Do not attempt to follow them. Make sure the other students remain in their dormitories. I will see you tomorrow morning._

_APWBD_

I breathed a sigh of relief. Although I did not know for certain that Potter and his friends were indeed safe, Albus' letter told me, however indirectly that he was monitoring them. I did not understand how he was doing this, but quite frankly, I could not have cared less. A weight was lifted off my shoulders; the combination of being correct and the promise of being able to speak with the headmaster the next day sent me into a relatively peaceful sleep.

**_~CS~CS~CS~_**

The following morning was reportedly a hectic one which involved a visit from Lucius, the release of Hagrid, and thankfully the return of both Albus and Miss Weasley. Although I was thankfully excluded from all of these procedures, when Albus had the time to speak with me in private, he informed me of everything that had taken place and enlightened me with the answers he and I had been trying to seek during the year.

Miss Weasley was understandably shaken but safe, and Potter and Weasley were perfectly fine. Albus' words blurred together in my mind as he explained how Potter managed to survive being face-to-face with Tom Riddle, the basilisk, and a near dead Miss Weasley deep within the Chamber. Somehow, the boy had managed to call Fawkes, who brought the Sorting Hat with him, from which Potter pulled Gryffindor's sword. Albus had magical protection around each precious objects in his office, and was thus able to sense when the Sorting Hat went missing. Miraculously, Potter used the sword to kill the basilisk, and then used one of the snake's fangs to destroy the diary Tom Riddle had used to control Miss Weasley, and with it went the Dark Lord's echo. During this process, Potter also managed to Obliviate Lockhart's memories, and managed to free Lucius' house elf. I suppose Potter and Weasley deserved the 'Award for Services to the School' they received along with 100 house points a piece.

My stunned silence was interpreted by Albus as my being impressed. And I suppose I was impressed insofar that the boy was _incredibly_ lucky. I suppose being orphaned at the age of one should give you some right to good luck in later life. But being confronted by the Dark Lord twice over two years should have been life threatening. Clearly the prophecy was created by the gods to ensure the means of destroying the Dark Lord remained alive. They had succeeded yet again. Perhaps frequent run-ins with versions of the Dark Lord was something I would need to get used to.

Although my nightmares at ceased once Albus assured me that Tom Riddle's echo was most definitely destroyed, it required weeks of reflection before I could admit to myself my own fears and anticipations. Despite my respect for the Dark Lord's expertise in dark magic and my historical admiration of him, my experience of being a spy over a mere two years drove within me a true desire for the permanent, irreversible death of my previous master.

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Author's note: Thank you for reading- I hope you enjoyed the chapter and my interpretation of what I believe Severus would have experienced during Harry's 2nd year, in particular with regard to how much Albus confided in him. I would love to hear your thoughts on this :)

Unfortunately I have not been able to write as often as I thought I would. I planned to do most of my writing in January, but then discovered that I am being taken on a surprise overseas trip during the first two weeks of January! It's exciting for sure and I can't wait, but it means writing will need to take a back seat once again. When I return, I should have two weeks to write almost non-stop. But I only recently discovered that I may need to move house before February, so life is heaps hectic at the moment! But I will try to keep you guys updated when I can.

Please know that I so appreciate your readership and your understanding. I wish SO much that I could write more frequently, and update more often for you guys, but real life needs to take priority at the moment.

Thank you once again for your patience and for reading! I love you guys!


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